


impulse control

by formercongressman



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 09:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18091679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/formercongressman/pseuds/formercongressman
Summary: In which Vanessa is chaotic, Brooke is a professional, and nothing happens (yet).





	impulse control

**Author's Note:**

> Hopping on a brand new ship!! I’m trying my hand at writing shorter fics with the goal of getting them out faster, and I hope you enjoy this! This might have more parts, we’ll see ;) She/her pronouns and drag names because I just started writing it that way and it feels unnatural to change it now!
> 
> UPDATE 3/24: I'm not going to be adding to this, but I'll definitely be writing more Brooke x Vanjie! I started this before they were a canon thing, and I'm getting some different characterization that I want to do as more stuff plays out on screen. I'm leaving this lovely little artifact up, though, and I hope you enjoy <3

 

Brooke realized she probably shouldn’t have told the other girls that the hotel staff forgot to take the booze out of the minibar in her room. Hindsight was indeed 20/20.

The first hour was fun. Shuga and Nina were just as sweet as they had been on first impression, Yvie and Scarlet played bartender and mixed some suspiciously strong drinks, and Vanessa was bouncing off the walls with enthusiasm that she had made it past the first challenge. Hour two was tolerable. People trickled in and out, much to the chagrin of a PA that Nina quickly appeased with a shot. Hour three was when it really got exhausting. More than anything, Brooke wanted some sleep. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but she knew that their 7 am call time was bound to be cruel to her.

Mercifully, at about midnight everyone got the hint and went back to their rooms. Except, of course, for Vanessa, who was halfway through painting her nails on the end of Brooke’s bed.

“Oh girl, you should have seen those judges’ faces, though, when I walked out. I know they were wanting to give me that Shangela edit but there’s no way that’s gonna happen because you know I plan on being in the top every week now—"

“Could you talk a little softer?” Brooke interrupted her. She was walking around the room trying to pick up the paper cups a few of the visitors had left strewn across the floor.

“Girl, I have one volume, you should know that.”

“I just don’t want to get in trouble on the first night.”

“You won the first challenge, it’s the first night, they’ll let it slide.”

Brooke waited a moment, cracking a smile. She leaned over to catch Vanessa’s eye. “And how would you know?”

“Oh bitch! Is it gonna be like that?” Vanessa cackled, screwing the nail polish top back on and standing up to admire her handiwork. “That’s ice cold, Queen of the North.”

Brooke chuckled to herself and crouched down to open the suitcase she had still yet to unpack. She was grateful she had thrown in a pair of sweats on top so she didn’t have to sort through the mess of boy clothes she had brought to find something comfy. She pulled her t-shirt over her head, hoping Vanessa would get the message that maybe it was time for her to go back to her room.

There was a pause. Brooke felt eyes on her, and she realized that perhaps this was having the opposite effect. 

“You’re pretty fine, Miss Brooke.” It turned out Vanessa’s voice could, in fact, get softer, and it took on a kind of lighter edge that Brooke had never heard before.

“I know.” Brooke’s response was automatic. She was used to getting hit on in dressing rooms, and was used to brushing it off. But then she remembered her surroundings. This certainly wasn’t a dressing room.

“I bet you do.” Vanessa came closer, propping herself against the wall near where Brooke stood. “I heard it gets bad in here with so many good looking people and no one to fuck.”

Brooke could see where Vanessa was going with this, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t into it. Vanessa was a tiny package of energy with an unapologetic smile and a laugh that sounded like a weedwhacker but was still undeniably infectious. If this was a night at a bar in Nashville, she would be all over her. But it was the first night of the competition, she was already doing so well, and she couldn’t risk it with a distraction. 

“Sister dick will make you sick.” Brooke repeated the phrase she had heard both Willam and Alaska say at some point, both of them not queens especially well known for taking that advice to heart, but that was beside the point.

“Oh, that’s not true.” Vanessa smiled, her voice dialing up louder and louder as she laughed at herself. “You think the girls who get to the top aren’t at least getting laid a little bit? You know, I was talking to Aquaria and you would really never guess—"

“Vanjie, _shut up_.”

Brooke was serious, and she turned around suddenly, not realizing just how close she had been to Vanessa. Vanessa’s back hit the wall with a solid thud, and Brooke had her pinned tightly between the wall and her body. She brought her arm up against the wall, blocking Vanessa in.

This was all an accident, but Brooke didn’t pull away. Something had shifted. She became acutely aware of just how small Vanessa was, her jaw agape as she craned her neck to look up at Brooke, who towered over her. As much as Brooke knew that logically this was a bad idea, she couldn’t ignore how overwhelmingly right it felt to be pressed against her like this.  

“ _Oh_ ,” Vanessa breathed, her eyes wide, the corners of her lips creeping up. “Wanna make me?”

Without thinking, Brooke brought her hand over Vanessa’s mouth. Vanessa narrowed her eyes in confusion. Perhaps she was expecting a kiss to shut her up, but Brooke wasn’t ready to give her the satisfaction. Vanessa tried to twist away, but Brooke caught her arm and kept her solidly against the wall. Vanessa lifted one eyebrow, intrigue in her eyes, as she smiled against Brooke’s hand. Brooke wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but it felt like Vanessa was tuned into this same electric connection as she was.

Brooke felt Vanessa’s warm, wet tongue against the inside of her palm, tracing a slow, sensual circle that made something churn just below Brooke’s gut. Brooke drew her hand back a little, and Vanessa caught the tips of two of her fingers in her mouth. She didn’t break eye contact for a second as she sucked Brooke’s fingers, her lips plump and shimmering and _oh fuck_ Brooke couldn’t help but imagine what those lips might look like wrapped around her, and _of course_ Vanessa knew that. Brooke fought back the shudder that threatened to ripple through her entire body. Brooke pressed her fingers in just a little deeper and Vanessa’s eyes fell shut, and she let out the smallest perceptible noise.

Brooke was wildly turned on, there was no denying that, and she was pretty sure Vanessa was aware as well as they shifted their hips against one another. She pulled her fingers back with the subtlest pop, and Vanessa looked up at her with hooded eyes, waiting.

“That’s better,” Brooke whispered.

“You know what’s even better?” Vanessa asked, a smirk somehow traveling through her entire face.

She slid down against the wall, her face disappearing from view, and Brooke drew in a sharp breath. She felt Vanessa’s fingers teasing the edge of her waistband, her mouth hovering over where Brooke needed it so intensely, and _oh wow oh god_ she could feel Vanessa’s warm breath through the cloth of her pants and she moved her hand to lace tightly in Vanessa’s hair and—

“ _No_ , no, we can’t.” Brooke pulled back, almost stumbling as she tried to put as much space between her and Vanessa as she easily could. The connection was severed, and Brooke tried to shake herself out of it. This was a _competition_ , and she had to be professional. Vanessa let out a long sigh and leaned back into the wall. Brooke almost felt like she needed to apologize, but she held her composure. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Vanessa picked herself off the floor, adjusting her rumpled shirt. “Alright, suit yourself.” She picked up her phone from the corner table, and she turned to look back at Brooke, a scheming smile still on her face. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

With a wink, Vanessa was out the door, and Brooke was left standing with her mouth hanging slightly open, surrounded by the suffocating tension in the air Vanessa had left behind.

“ _Shit_ ,” Brooke whispered to herself as soon as the door clicked shut.

She walked to the bathroom and immediately turned on the shower. Cold water. What the fuck had just happened? She willed the cold water to wash away the sensation that tingled in her hips and at the back of her neck, with little success. She was here to win, not to get fucked. Yet try as she might, she couldn’t erase the image burned into her mind of Vanessa’s mouth around her fingers, and just how good it had felt holding her back, holding her down.

Sleep didn’t come easily, as her mind rushed between all of the events of the day, new faces and names, challenges, production details, every possible mistake and bad impression she might have already made. That much felt natural. But as she finally drifted off it was Vanessa’s curious eyes and devilish smirk that danced behind her eyes, and Brooke realized that keeping her eyes on the prize wasn’t going to be as easily as she initially thought it would be.

**Author's Note:**

> as always I love to hear your comments and feedback! you can also find me on tumblr at @formercongressman :)


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